


The World Through A Keyhole

by Adelaide_Pierce



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 01:12:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18906496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adelaide_Pierce/pseuds/Adelaide_Pierce
Summary: AVENGERS ENDGAME SPOILERS (You have been warned)...“I’ve seen the math,” Peter said cautiously, “and I understand the science. It’s not possible to change the past. Any attempt to manipulate past events will only result in alternate realities being formed. It won’t actually change anything in your own timeline. It can’t.”“Certainly not when using Pym Particles,” Strange agreed, nodding, “But the time stone works outside of such restrictions. The Infinity Stones each control an essential aspect of existence. Thanos was able turn half the universe’s population into dust because combined the stones allowed him control over existence itself. The time stone offers its user the ability to manipulate time in ways that work outside of natural law.”For a moment, Peter didn’t get it. He furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to ask another question before suddenly it clicked and his eyes widened.“You’re saying we can rewrite the timeline,” Peter breathed, mind swirling with the possibilities..Peter is left reeling after the events of Endgame and is struggling to find his place in a Post-Snap world. Then, Doctor Strange comes to him with a proposal that could change everything.





	The World Through A Keyhole

After the funeral was over, most people had migrated inside the cabin and were scattered throughout the kitchen and living room. There was something slightly bizarre about the scene for Peter, seeing all these crazy powerful people in such an ordinary setting. Captain America was seated in an armchair with Falcon perched on the arm of it, their heads close together as they spoke in hushed tones. Hawkeye was sitting on the sofa with his wife and daughter while their two boys played on the floor, Scarlet Witch making glowing red animals in the air to entertain them. Black Panther, his sister, and their guard Okoye were stood in the corner speaking quickly to each other in a language he didn’t understand. The Guardians were in the kitchen with Happy, Miss Potts, and Colonel Rhodes trying to run interference and contain the brewing chaos. Dr. Strange and Wong were seated at the kitchen table conversing quietly, although Peter had caught the Doctor giving him considering looks when he thought he wasn’t looking. The others had already left for various reasons that Peter didn't bother finding out. It all seemed surprisingly domestic.

It felt particularly strange knowing that this home belonged to Mr. Stark. The house itself was such a far cry from the sleek minimalism and advanced technology of the Avengers Compound. The only hint at his former lifestyle was the large holo table that looked weirdly out of place in the area just off the living room. Peter stood uncomfortably off to the side, feeling just as out of place. Everything happening around him felt a million miles away. He knew he was far from the only one here who had been lost in the snap, but he couldn’t help but feel like that holo table: a relic of a former existence, a piece of a past life that didn’t really have a place in this new one.

A hand landed on his arm and he jumped, turning to see Aunt May eyeing him with concern.

“They’re cooking up some burgers,” she said quietly, hand rubbing his forearm comfortingly, “You should eat something.”

Peter swallowed around the lump in his throat, averting his eyes to go back to staring at the holo table, “I’m not hungry.”

He heard her give a sigh and her hand slid up his arm to squeeze his shoulder, “Peter, you need to eat.”

Peter made an aborted motion with his head, “I ate earlier.”

Her hand lingered for another moment before it slipped away. He felt oddly bereft without it, “Alright…promise me you’ll have something later though?”

“Promise,” Peter murmured and the lie tasted like ashes in his mouth. _Maybe he was still only dust._

She pulled away and Peter stood there stock still, just taking in this place where Mr. Stark had lived. It felt strange. It felt wrong, like he was looking through a window at a life he thought he knew but the glass was distorted and everything was slightly skewed. Just…out of place. He glanced over at Miss Potts who was working in the kitchen. Or was it Mrs. Stark now? He felt a pang somewhere deep inside him at the thought of missing their wedding. He’d been looking forward to it. He and May were going to attend. They were supposed to sit at the same table as Happy and Colonel Rhodes. He wondered if someone else took their seats or if they were simply left empty. Actually, he didn’t even know where they ended up having it. Was it even at the same venue? How many of their intended guests had turned to dust?

He watched her move around the kitchen, helping prep food and handing Morgan a small cup of berries to snack on. He admires her poise. He knows she feels the loss even more keenly than he does but she still looks so strong and put together. Peter feels like he’s falling apart. And little Morgan. God, Morgan. Mr. Stark had a daughter. There was so much that he’d missed. So many stolen moments he’d never get back. He could see the echos of them in the shadows of May’s eyes. But wasn’t that what death was? Running out of time? The moments you miss once you’re gone? And he was dead, although he doesn’t remember it. It’s disturbing to think about. He was terrified when it was happening. His spidey sense screaming at him about the coming danger - a danger impossible to avoid - beyond anything they could fight, beyond comprehension. He remembered feeling his legs begin to crumble into dust, stumbling into Mr. Stark’s arms and clinging to him like a frightened child, begging-

 _I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go, sir, please_ -

He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. There were too many people in here. Moving on automatic, he made his way towards the front door of the house and out into the fresh air. He sat down on the stone front steps, staring at the spot on the dock where he had stood with May not even an hour earlier. He tried to think of nothing.

_He was only dust._

Peter didn’t know how long he sat there, although the sun was definitely lower in the sky when he felt a presence settle on the stairs next to him. He glanced to the side and was confused to see Colonel Rhodes. He wasn’t very close to the Colonel, although he had certainly met the man several times. He was kind and he had clearly loved Mr. Stark like a brother. Peter wasn’t sure what to say to him so he said nothing.

“Not hungry, kid?” He asked after a long moment.

Peter couldn’t help but flinch at the moniker and he saw Colonel Rhodes shoot him a glance.

“Er, no,” Peter said, clearing his throat, “I ate earlier.”

Colonel Rhodes just nodded as though Peter had confirmed something he’d been wondering about and looked back at the lake, “I’m not very hungry these days either.”

Peter didn’t bother to protest. There wasn’t any point. They both knew he was lying.

There was a long pause.

“Never thought Tony’d end up somewhere like this,” Colonel Rhodes said thoughtfully, breaking the silence, “From the moment I met him he was larger than life, even as a 15 year old provocateur causing all kinds of trouble at MIT. He never stopped - his mind was always going. The quiet life….I didn’t think he’d ever slow down long enough to get that. It seemed like nothing could contain him.”

Peter eyed him, not sure why he was telling him this. Colonel Rhodes didn’t seem to expect a response, but Peter felt compelled to give him one anyway, “…Maybe nothing could. Maybe he felt freer out here.”

“Maybe,” the Colonel allowed and then fell quiet.

Peter watched the dock move slowly up and down on the gentle currents of the water. He couldn’t see the flowers Miss Potts had placed on the lake anymore. He wondered idly how far they’d drifted away.

“You know he saved my life once, before he knew me,” Peter said softly.

Colonel Rhodes didn’t look surprised. He just turned to look at him and cocked his head, “When was that?”

“At the Stark Expo…in 2010,” Peter said, purposefully keeping his eyes pointed ahead, still staring out over the lake, “I’d been begging my Aunt and Uncle for months to take me. I’d always loved science…and Iron Man. I actually was wearing this stupid plastic Iron Man helmet and repulsor set that my Uncle had gotten me as a present. When the Hammer drones went crazy and started shooting I ended up getting separated from May and Ben. I couldn’t find them in the crowd with everyone running everywhere so I just stayed put so they’d be able to find me. Then, one of drones locked onto me. I think it was because of the helmet….it thought I was the real deal. It aimed its gun at me and I just…raised my fake repulsor. So dumb, right? Like, it was plastic. What the hell was that supposed to do? But I just kept asking myself what Iron Man would do and I was like, ‘he’d be brave and he’d fight them so he could protect people’. Anyway, before I knew it, Mr. Stark lands right in front of me, shoots his repulsor at it and blows it away. Then he looked back over his shoulder, said ‘Nice work, kid,’ and flew off.”

Colonel Rhodes huffed out a small breath that might have been a laugh and nodded turning his head to also look out over the lake, “Sounds like Tony.”

“I never told him about that,” Peter whispered, throat tightening as his eyes stung with the threat of tears.

Colonel Rhodes was quiet for a time. Then, he sighed, “Listen, Peter, I wanted to make sure you knew how much you meant to Tony. Because you did…mean a lot.”

Peter made a soft sound in the back of his throat indicating his disbelief, before he could stop himself.

Colonel Rhodes turned to look at him again, but his expression was solemn, “I’m serious. Do you know that he turned Cap and the rest of them down the first time they came to him with the idea of using time travel to reverse the snap?”

Peter jerked his head to stare at him, startled, “What?”

“Said it couldn’t be done,” Colonel Rhodes said, “Said it _shouldn’t_ be done. Didn’t want to risk making everything worse than it already was. The past five years…they were hard. On everyone, including Tony. He’d changed. And he had Morgan to worry about.”

Peter pressed his lips together and ducked his head at the reminder of Tony’s daughter. He knew how it felt to lose a parent (several times over now) and it was a pain he wouldn’t wish on anyone - certainly not Tony Stark’s daughter. She was too young to fully grasp the fact that her father wasn’t ever going to come home, not yet at least, but she would feel his absence for the rest of her life.

Colonel Rhodes’ dark eyes watched him closely, “The first thing he said when he got back to Earth after Titan was that he’d lost you. Kept a photo of you and him in the kitchen after he moved out here. I’d catch him looking at it sometimes. He never forgot about you. And he figured out time travel because, if there was even the _smallest_ chance, he couldn’t not do everything in his power to bring you back.”

Peter felt those words hit like a physical blow, leaving him breathless. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away. He knew that the Colonel was trying to make him feel better. He knew he was just trying to let him know how much Mr. Stark cared.

_If you died, I feel like that’s on me. I don’t need that on my conscience._

Mr. Stark had always taken too much on himself. Peter was not surprised to hear that he’d felt responsible for him. That was just the kind of person that Mr. Stark was. But the idea that _he_ was the catalyst for the events that led to Mr. Stark’s death - that _he_ was the reason Morgan no longer had a father -

He took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling suddenly nauseous as the guilt rose up to drown him. A traitorous tear slipped down his cheek and he wiped it away viciously. He felt Colonel Rhodes shift next to him and couldn’t completely suppress another flinch but the Colonel simply gripped the back of his neck bracingly before he stood silently and left, giving Peter some privacy.

Peter released another shaky breath and opened his eyes but he couldn’t see the lake anymore through the haze of tears. He lowered his head into his hands and gripped his hair tightly, a choked sob escaping him. He didn’t want to know that. He didn’t want to know that the only reason Mr. Stark was gone was because he felt responsible for some 15 year old vigilante from Queens. A 15 year old _failure_. He’d almost had the gauntlet off when it all went so wrong. This all could have been avoided if only he was faster..stronger. Better.

_I wanted you to be better._

What was _wrong_ with him? Was he cursed? Why did everyone that he cared about have to leave him?

The sounds of quiet chatter from inside the house filtered out through the open windows and suddenly Peter wanted to be anywhere but here. He lurched to his feet and stumbled away from the cabin, trying to suppress the sobs making his chest ache. He made it to the forest on the edges of the property, slipping into the cool shadow of the trees. Slumping against the rough bark of a towering oak, he tried desperately to catch his breath. The world swirled around him as his senses went haywire. He could hear everything: the wind whistling through the trees, the quiet scuttle of insects under the brush, the flutter of a birds wings as it moved through the air, the voices of the guests traveling from the house. The dappled sunlight streaming in through the leaves of the trees burned his eyes and the bark of the tree he was using to hold himself up felt jagged as it cut into the skin of his palms. He fell to his knees, clinging even harder to the trunk of the tree to keep himself upright as he retched into the dirt, the smell of bile burning his nose, bringing up what little he’d been able to eat in the past few days.

He fell back against the tree, gasping for breath once he was finally done. He stayed like that for a while, his breaths punctuating the sounds of the forest as his senses slowly faded back to a manageable level. The sun was even lower in the sky now, casting a vivid orange glow on the surface of the water that reminded him of the color of Titan’s sky. It looked like the lake was on fire.

Then he could hear Aunt May calling his name. “Peter!” She said, “Peter, where are you?”

Peter closed his eyes, trying to gather himself. “Coming!” he called back, wincing at how wrecked his voice sounded after all the throwing up. He coughed a little and using the tree as a crutch, climbed a bit unsteadily to his feet. Glancing down at the mess, he kicked half-heartedly at the brush on the forest floor to try and cover it up. He scrubbed his hands over his face to try and erase any evidence of tears.

He gave one last glance to the blazing lake.

“Showtime,” he murmured to himself and slowly made his way back to the house.


End file.
